Kissing Hermione Granger
by rKrispyt
Summary: My first attempt at a fanfic - it's pretty sad, but ya gotta start somewhere. Loosely based on the Indie film Kissing Jessica Stein, a story about finding love in the oddest of places - and only when you're truly ready for it.


Disclaimer: Oh, how happy and fulfilled my life would be, were I JK Rowling and the sole owner of Harry Potter and all that comes along with it...sadly, my life is what it is and that ain't too pleasant to say the least. It'd be even worse if someone sued, so let me say now how much I so do not own any of this and that no copyright infringement is intended in the least. (Ditto regarding Kissing Jessica Stein)  
  
A/N: This is my first attempt at a fanfic, although I'm an avid fan. Despite the fact that I have had countless ideas for fics in the past, when I finally sat down to write one, I had nothing. While watching tons of my fave movies this weekend, I came across one that I thought might be a fun inspiration for an R/H fanfiction, that being the indie movie Kissing Jessica Stein.  
  
I'm still working out a bunch of the kinks in the parallels (I'd rather not have Hermione explore lesbianism – I suck, I know) so it won't be a duplicate of the movie, just have lots of influences from it, mainly in the dialogue department.  
  
Hope you enjoy and I can't wait to get this one done so I can start a real, original one (I kind of feel like I'm cheating on this...). All that said, enjoy!  
  
Krum had come to say good-bye to Hermione. "Could I have a vord?" he asked her.  
  
"Oh...yes...alright," said Hermione, looking slightly flustered; and following Krum through the crowd and out of sight.  
  
They returned quite soon. Ron stared at Hermione, but her face was quite impassive.  
  
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Pg. 725 (US Version)  
  
Kissing Hermione Granger  
  
Chapter One: Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow  
  
Hermione followed him through the crowd of students, her mind trying desperately to find an answer to the question she felt almost certain awaited her. Viktor was surely going to ask her where she stood on his invitation to visit her over the summer, and although at first she had briefly contemplated actually going - seeing Bulgaria would be incredibly educational - how on earth could she now?  
  
They were suddenly at the onstage of a war and Voldemort could strike at any time. She had to be ready for it; had to be close to home to protect her parents; ready to stand by Harry and Ron and fight when the time came, as they all knew now it surely would. She wanted nothing more than to remain near those that she loved most dearly, and no one of that description would be found in Bulgaria.  
  
As Viktor continued to lead her past her schoolmates, Hermione studied their carefree faces, catching bits of the conversations as she passed. They were all completely ignorant to the dangers that awaited them. Why wouldn't they listen to Dumbledore? How could anyone be so foolish and naïve?  
  
When they had finally stopped, a short distance from the throng of students eager to return home for their summer holiday, Hermione felt her heartbeat quicken. How in the world was she going to tell him no? The last thing she wanted to do was hurt his feelings, but surely Viktor did not comprehend the magnitude of what the near future held in store for them all, nor how closely tied to it she was as a loyal friend to Harry Potter.  
  
Suddenly the decision to accept his invitation to the ball, despite knowing she did not return his romantic feelings, didn't seem like such a good idea. How did she get herself in this position?  
  
As Viktor turned to face her, she took one last steadying breath. "Just let him down easy," she thought to herself, "and it'll all be over before you know it".  
  
Sure, she'd seem like the bad guy and he'd be hurt at first, but in the end, she knew she was doing the right thing. She simply didn't care for Viktor in that way. Truth be told, they had barely even become friends in the little time spent together over the past few weeks.  
  
She met Viktor's eyes, ready to face the music. Neither had spoken. Viktor continued to stare at her, and she saw him take several deep breaths. Why was he so nervous? He'd asked her before and it rolled right off the tip of his tongue – what was the big deal?  
  
"Maybe he knows what you're going to say," she thought. Oh, no! Granted, it would make letting him down much easier, but, despite the fact that she was still uncertain as to what she was actually going to say, she'd wanted a chance to explain; to tell him that, while he was a wonderful person, she simply did not have those types of feelings for him; that her life was much too complicated to throw in romance as well. Now he seemed to have sensed her rejection and would probably just think she was a horrible girl who'd led him on.  
  
Just then she saw his expression change: there was something more there, a slight tenderness, almost...was that...pity?  
  
"Perhaps..." she could barely allow herself to wish it, "perhaps he doesn't feel that way about you anymore". It wasn't illogical, after all his feelings had never really made sense to her: he barely knew her at all let alone to fancy her.  
  
Hermione felt a giant weight lifted off of her shoulders. How could she have been so daft? Yes, it all made so much sense. He'd clearly gotten to know her a little and realized that she was not the girl for him. Had he sought her out to tell her so and revoke his hasty invitation for the summer?  
  
She suddenly felt her luck change. Of course – Viktor had come to his senses and was now trying to find a way to let her down gently. Well, she was certainly going to make it obvious that she was ready for it.  
  
Hermione couldn't help but smile at having this huge responsibility lifted from her. She willed her thoughts to slip into his head, repeatedly commanding "Reject away!" until, with one last hard swallow, Viktor finally spoke.  
  
"I think I'm in love vith you."  
  
Her heart felt as though it had stopped. This was the last thing she'd expected him to say. "What?" was all she could manage.  
  
Without a moment's hesitation, Viktor repeated confidently, "I think I'm in love vith you".  
  
Hermione felt her face drop. Clearly her mind was playing tricks on her. She couldn't have heard him correctly.  
  
"I'm sorry, what?" she managed to sputter, now laughing slightly at her apparent mistake.  
  
She flinched as Viktor took her hands in his. "I've really enjoyed the time we've spent together in the past few veeks. You're bright...and pretty...and very sensitive," he paused, then with a smile that covered his entire face, added "and now I think I'm love vith you."  
  
She was at a loss for words. This couldn't be happening. Without thinking, Hermione blurted out the only thought that came to her mind.  
  
"I'm sorry, are you crazy?"  
  
Viktor merely laughed. "Vat do you mean?"  
  
Clearly, he wasn't getting it. "I mean are you crazy?" she repeated, this time slow and deliberate.  
  
A look of realization dawned on his face. Hermione felt guilt suddenly wash over her. This was not the best way of 'letting him down easy' as she had originally intended...but sometimes a girl had to be a little forceful.  
  
"Oh because it's so fast?" he replied, his face still filled with hope that she might return his affections. "No, I've thought about this and I really feel ready to say it."  
  
Hermione stood dumbfounded, listening to his response. Questions of his sanity were reeling through her mind, but she knew where asking him about that led. Surely he didn't expect that she felt the same way?  
  
Finally she stammered, "We have nothing in common." He seemed taken aback as she continued, "Nothing. No, we don't have one thing in common..."  
  
"Vat do you mean?" he interrupted, "I've never felt this close to another person before..."  
  
"Okay, that's wrong." she interrupted, releasing his grip on her hands. She wasn't sure where her sudden harshness had come from, she only knew that she couldn't listen to this nonsense any longer.  
  
How could he possibly feel this way, when she herself could name a long list of people whom she felt closer to than the boy standing before her? Harry and Ron of course, Ginny – even Neville Longbottom ("If only I'd gone to the ball with him" she thought). Hell, throw Professor Snape in there while you're at it.  
  
Finally, taking a moment to calm herself and trying once more to be sensitive towards his feelings, she replied "We don't click at all." He looked at her questioningly, but before he could respond, she added, this time more adamantly, "AT ALL."  
  
There. That he must understand.  
  
"Oh but I think ve do," he replied, causing Hermione to run her hands through her hair in frustration as he persisted "ve...ve both enjoy dancing...ve both come from vizarding schools..."  
  
He must be joking.  
  
"Ve both like trees..." he added.  
  
Now he was reaching, she thought, before he finally implored "In vat vays do you feel ve don't click?"  
  
For Hermione, this was the last straw. She had tried to be nice and considerate of his affections towards her, but enough was enough.  
  
Without batting an eyeless, breathless and frustrated, she answered, "In what ways?! In...we don't click in any ways. We don't...we don't have chemistry or banter or...or...common interests. You're a professional Quidditch player, you go to photo shoots and sign autographs. You do yoga before a match, you don't, you don't appreciate the chaos and absurdity of life on this planet and in the wizarding world. You don't understand irony, or ethnicity or eccentricity or poetry or the simple joy of having magical powers or having a best friend - I love that! You don't drink pumpkin juice...or Butterbeer. You don't overeat. You don't cry when you're alone. You don't understand sarcasm. You...plow through life in a neat, colorless, conflict-free, self-possessed way. I'm bold and angry and tortured and tremendous and I notice when someone has changed their hair part or when someone is wearing two very distinctly different shades of black or when someone changes the natural tamper of their voice in conversation. I don't give out empty praise. I'm not complacent or well adjusted. I can't spend fifty minutes breathing and stretching and getting in touch with myself. I can't sleep at night because I feel that there is so much to do and fix and change in the world and I wonder everyday if I'm making a difference and if I will ever express the greatness within me or if I will remain forever paralyzed by my muddled madness inside my head. I've wept on my past four birthdays because life is huge and fleeting and I hate certain people and certain circumstances and I feel that life is terribly unfair and sometimes beautiful and wonderful and extraordinary but also numbing and horrifying and insurmountable and I hate life some of the time, but most of the time I adore it, and I adore myself and my life at Hogwarts and in this world that we live in, this huge and wondrous, bewildering, brilliant, horrible world."  
  
Hermione finally paused to catch her breath. It was then that she took in the look of complete shock, albeit calm, exhibited on Viktor's face, and all the words she'd just spat out at him finally reverberated through her head. Where had that come from?  
  
After a long silence from both of them, Hermione concluded, "In these ways, I feel that we do not...click."  
  
His tone completely tranquil, Viktor finally spoke.  
  
"So...you don't think it's going to vork out?"  
  
PLEASE REVIEW – it's my first one and I desperately need all the constructive criticism I can get! I promise I'll welcome it all with open arms! 


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